Once More Before Dawn
by Berlin's Brown Eyes
Summary: “Every choice we have made has led us to where we are now, and in this moment I am not unhappy.” Oneshot. LZ


**-Once More Before Dawn-  
by Berlin's Brown Eyes**

The horizon exuded a gravity of hunger that beckoned the sun into the comfort of its arms. Their engagement emanated in shades of reds and violets, filling the envious sky. This romance did not go unnoticed by the eyes of the young princess. Their unabashed attraction flooded her room, and cast her shadow across the brilliant royal carpet leading to her equally royal bed, where lay a letter bearing a most _unroyal_ mark.

She stepped curiously out of the waning light and into her darkening room, retrieving the letter. Upon closer examination, it had been sealed with common candle wax and the sender's thumb. She smiled in excitement. This was not a note from father.

She opened it slowly, savoring the butterflies fluttering under her skin. She sat herself on her bed and proceeded to read it.

_I must see you before dawn.  
Meet me in our usual place.  
In dire urgency,  
L_

Zelda rested her hands on her lap and pondered over the meaning of "dire urgency", but quickly dismissed it as originating from Link's melodrama. Her heart leapt with anticipation. Their casual midnight walks and conversations that would last until morning inevitably abetted the princess's growing affection for the young hero. Secrecy only made it more exhilarating. She would conceal herself in a dark cape and sneak out of the impermeable castle under the soft twilight. She would skulk past the castle guards and into the marketplace. There, under a tree, just beyond the temple, they would meet. She was thrilled at the thought of him standing there with the moonlight reflecting on his face, waiting for her. She closed her eyes and imagined all that would pass between them that night.

Upon opening her eyes, she found that light at last had failed. Nothing but sparse streaks of violet remained. Her handmaidens soon came to dress her for bed. They were content to assume she would put herself to sleep. She had climbed into her luxurious bed, and even closed her eyes. She listened to them leave. She listened constantly, making sure the fortress was sleeping before she dared to make her escape. The minutes she waited seemed to pass like hours. Periodically she would open her eyes in order to prevent herself from falling asleep—Not that she could sleep when she could hear her own heart beating so loudly in her ears.

She silently crept from her bed and lit a candle. She retrieved a cloak from the deepest corner of her wardrobe and draped it around her shoulders, fastening it with a clasp at the collar. She pulled the hood over her and tucked in her hair. In the mirror she threw herself a charming smile, inhaled and then relaxed her shoulders. Satisfied, she blew out the candle and proceeded to ease herself onto the windowsill where she began the lengthy climb down the garden trellis below.

At the base of the trellis, she looked up at her window, dreading the future climb upwards. From her window she turned her sights to the sky. From the shade of the moon, she concluded that it must have been an hour or so past midnight.

She heard a guard clamoring through the courtyard. She pressed herself against the wall of the castle, hiding in its shadows. She held her breath as the guard passed her. The barricade of his helmet obstructed his sight; he could not see her. She slinked into the shrubbery and out the other side while the guard's back was turned. From there she could run the length of the courtyard without being seen.

At the north end of the courtyard, she slipped through the castle's irrigation system, a small opening in the castle's wall for water from which its fountains were filled. There were no guards posted directly outside the wall, but she would still have to make it past the guarded gate. She remained close against the adjacent hill and soundlessly stalked to the peak of the gate where a thick vine of ivy helped her down the other side. Her slippered feet landed in the dust with a soft thud. She grinned triumphantly.

From there, unhindered, she made her way into the empty Hylian marketplace —empty except for the occasional stray dog. She hurriedly paced across the square to the ancient yard, her footsteps tapping rhythmically against the uneven cobblestone. She stepped through the rows of curious looking gravestones towards the back of the towering temple. She turned the corner and walked a small distance away from the great stonewalls. She stopped in front of an old dying tree, on which was carved the Hylian crest. She traced her finger along the grooves and smiled. She looked about to see if Link was there, or perhaps even watching her. She found that he was not, and so decided to sit and rest against the tree, mindlessly closing her eyes. It was not long before she drifted into a deep sleep.

A few hours later, much closer to the hour when the sun breaks free of the horizon's grasp and returns to the envious sky, crisp leaves were broken under a pair of worn leather boots. Attached to those boots were the strong legs of a boisterous young man.

Link brushed a low tree branch from his face to see his princess, sleeping angelically beneath their tree. He approached her cautiously, as not to startle her. He knelt down next to her and lightly touched her hand. Her sapphire eyes fluttered open. At first she yawned and stretched her arms, but soon her eyes widened. She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly, nearly knocking him over.

"I missed you," she sighed happily. "Why do you stay away for so long?"

Link was taken aback by her forwardness, but returned her embrace. "It's only been a fortnight," he replied coolly.

"Oh hush," she hit him playfully on the shoulder, "I know you missed me too."

"Well, since it seems you must beat affection out of me, yes, I did miss you," he teased.

"You wouldn't have asked me to come if you didn't," she countered.

Link's expression fell dramatically. "Oh, the letter…"

"I thought it was 'urgent'. There was something you wanted to say?" she asked, trying to interpret the consternation in his face.

"Yes... and no." He looked down at his boots for a long while without speaking.

"Well, what is it?" she prompted.

"I didn't want to say anything, but I know I must." He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "I've seen how you look at me, Zel. Everyone at the castle sees it too."

"Look at you how?" she asked, feigning innocence. The Princess, however, was a poor actress.

Link continued with growing irritation, "The guards have seen you leaving in the middle of the night. One of them followed you."

Zelda was confused by his tone. "So what if he saw me? He didn't stop me. ."

"He saw us together, Zel. It seems the whole castle suspects… we're _involved_."

"But we've never…"

"No, but apparently you've given them every reason to think so," he grumbled, more viciously than intended. Zelda's eyes swelled with tears. His voiced softened, "Oh Zel… I'm sorry." He stroked her hair and embraced her like a child. "That was unfair of me. After all, it's not your fault. I'm just as guilty as you—guiltier even. I admit that I have felt the same… _sentiments_ for you, knowing full well that I could never act upon them. I didn't want to tell you this way—I was never going to tell you. It would be better if you didn't know at all. I've risked so much asking you here, even now, but I felt I should see you once more before I go. I owe it to you to say goodbye."

She lifted her head from his chest and looked in his eyes. "I don't understand, Link…why? Can't we just explain that we are good friends and nothing more?"

"There are already rumors, Zel. It doesn't matter whether or not they are true. Denying it would only make it more believable. Besides, we have kept our feelings for each other hidden from no one but ourselves. If I stay, how long do you think it would be before the rumors came true?" The Princess said nothing. She knew he was right.

"Impa spoke with me as soon as I arrived from Kakariko," he continued, "She urged me to leave immediately. She said it would be a scandal if it ever got out, especially to your …betrothèd."

"So she was good enough to mention that too." Zelda folded her arms defensively.

"Yes, though I would have liked to hear it from you. Why didn't you tell me you were spoken for?"

"I've never met him, Link. I can't even remember his name," she scoffed, "And what difference would it make anyway? Aren't we just friends?"

He did not answer, but held her firmly by the shoulders and softly kissed her mouth. Her unsuspecting lips yielded to his gesture.

"You tell _me_…" he whispered against her cheek, "Tell me I'm wrong. Tell me you have no amorous feelings for me." He wiped a tear from her eyes. "Tell me you didn't want me to kiss you."

She couldn't lie to him, but she did not want to make her feelings for him all the more real by confessing them. The less substantial they remained, the less it would pain her in letting them go. "Why are you doing this?" she asked desperately, "Why are you making it harder to say goodbye?"

"If I must be banished on suspicion of loving you, then I might as well do something worthy of banishment." He smiled weakly. It was like him to make the best of the worst imaginable situation.

Zelda wanted to smile with him, but she could not let go of the dreadful guilt that filled her. "I'm sorry I wasn't more careful. It's unfair for you to be punished because of me."

"Nonsense, Zel. We wouldn't be standing here now, in each other's arms, if we had been any other way. I think it is better to be afforded this one moment and know we can never have it again, then to live a lifetime without it." He took Zelda's skeptical face in his hands. "I regret nothing. Neither should you. Every choice we have made has led us to where we are now, and in this moment I am not unhappy."

The princess was not convinced, however, that one moment was worth all others. Surely he had not contemplated the gravity of his decision as carefully as he should have.

As one who does not really want to know the answer to their question, she asked in a small voice, "_Maybe_, but how will we feel tomorrow?"

"There is no tomorrow," Link asserted, "There is only now."

They were as two wandering particles in space, obeying inversely related linear functions of circumstance. They followed their respective nonparallel paths with no remembrance of the past or knowledge of the future. By isolating this single value of time in which their paths converged and ignoring all others, they found each other—and something else: It was like happiness, but heavier, and more satisfying, because it was weighed down by the pain of valediction and yet mingled with an overwhelming sense of immortality, like the death of a brave young hero whose memory can never be sullied by the threat of cowardice.

The foggy morning crept up from the ground and into their consciousnesses. "It's getting light," he observed, "I'd better go." Link looked at the eastern sky. "If I am not gone by the time the sun rises over Lake Hylia, a writ will be issued for my arrest." He picked up his satchel and hoisted it over his shoulder.

Zelda's tense shoulders visibly rose and fell according to her pounding heart and anxious breaths. "Wait," she pleaded. Link looked down at the princess who held fast to his arm. "It would be shame for our first kiss to also be our last."

Link smirked. He would have wanted her to ask, but figured this hint would be closest he would ever hear to Zelda actually expressing her desire. He took her hand, and bent down to kiss her, one last gentle kiss, one last gentle touch, once more before dawn.

He whispered, "I love you, Zelda."

His profession prompted her with a subsequent question. The answered boiled within her, but until now, she had kept it hidden from mindfulness. "I—I love you too," she stuttered. She felt so full and so empty at the same time, in a way, relieved.

"I know," he winked, "That's why I have to go."

Their entwined fingers lingered momentarily before he departed. He looked back only once at her placid figure.

The day broke like a levee, spilling forth sunlight over the hills, flooding the valley of Hyrule and the eyes of its princess. As his silhouette disappeared in the distance she thought aloud, "Tomorrow is now."

Though in her heart, she knew no sorrow.


End file.
